Sir Thomas put down the paper which he had been reading, when his niece entered. He did not seem at all astonished to see her. No doubt the exercise of his profession had taught him never to be surprised at anything in life. He rose when he recognized who it was, and carefully folded his eyeglasses and slipped them into their case and into his waistcoat pocket. Then he said:
"My dear Louisa, this is quite unexpected! Is your father with you?"
"No," she replied, "I came alone. May I sit down?"
"Certainly, my dear child," he said genially, and himself wheeled a capacious arm-chair round to the fire.
"I am not disturbing you, Uncle Ryder?"
"No! no! Take off your cloak, won't you? I was only at the evening paper, preparatory to turning in early."
She glanced at the paper on the table: that page was uppermost that bore the startling headline, in unusually large type: "The Murder in the Taxicab. Sensational Developments." The chief of the Criminal Investigation Department studied the accounts in the newspapers, the opinion of pressmen and reporters. Everything interested him: he weighed everything in his mind; no silly advice, no empty tittle-tattle, was ever dismissed by him without its due meed of consideration.
Uncle and niece now sat opposite each other, facing the hearth. He looked straight into the fire, knowing that she would not wish him to see the misery in her face.
"Will you have something, Lou?" he asked kindly. "A cup of tea or something?"
"No, thank you, uncle. We had dinner, and father has gone to the club. I came to see you about Luke."